


When Love Isn't Enough

by Duchesse



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Other, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Romance, Smut, Suspense, divorce bullshit, gender-neutral, marriage bullshit, mature - Freeform, really sad bullshit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2018-12-16 18:24:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11834454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duchesse/pseuds/Duchesse
Summary: An impromptu meeting with the Chairman has you faced with the most difficult situation you’ve faced in your life.[Jumin Han/Reader].





	1. Chapter 1

“I want you to divorce my son.”

The room plummeted into silence following those words from the Chairman. He sat across from you at the round table, fingers loosely threaded atop one another in front of him as though an indicator that he wasn’t hiding anything. You noticed the doily beneath his hands shifted as he plucked the delicate fabric.

You didn’t utter a reply–or rather you couldn’t. Part of you couldn’t fathom what he had just said to you, his aged face set like stone with a severe expression, eyes capturing you in a staring battle that neither of you would yield to. He exuded an aura of power in the way he leaned forward, his shoulders hunched towards you confidently. There was no mistake he had said what he had with intention, and he had meant it.

The other part of you desperately scrutinized him, hoping to find something to prove the request he had made was authentic. The Chairman had been at your wedding, observing the way that you both never separated a moment that day, how Jumin seemed to hold your waist firmly as though terrified you would dissipate into a mist and slip between his fingers. He had witnessed your vows, the rings, the kiss, and the smiles.

He had approached you after the ceremony with an outstretched hand, your gaze apprehensive whereas Jumin’s seemed to shine even brighter. He had embraced you stiffly, offering a tight squeeze to your shoulders as reassurance, like he had told you everything was fine.

You didn’t understand why he was making such a demand now.

“I looked into it somewhat. Your family has been having difficulties, correct? It’s something you’ve been hiding from Jumin your entire relationship up until now.” With that said, the Chairman waved over a thin man in a black suit, in his hands was an even thinner envelop. The man-in-black rounded the table towards you with the envelop pinched gingerly by his fingertips, just as gently placing it before you on the table.

“What is this?” you broke your silence from a simmering anger and a morbid curiosity. You passed expectant glances between the envelop and your father-in-law, the simmering anger was beginning to bubble the longer he delayed an explanation. You thought he was enjoying watching you squirm.

“It’s exactly what you think it is. I’m offering you a way out,” he began, shifting in his seat so he nearly sat on the edge. “A way out of this life. Of being scrutinized and harassed by the media, by anyone who wants to see the downfall of this company… of Jumin.”

“Of Jumin?” you echoed, unable to conceal the way your voice wavered at the thought.

He nodded sagely, as though you recapitulated the center issue of the entire meeting. At this breakthrough, his shoulders rolled back into the firm cushion of his chair, his fingers tenting against his chest as he stared at you, somewhat thoughtfully with a minuscule smile  
.  
“Surely, you know the stress he’s still under even now? Even after you both got married, it never stopped. My son does astonishingly well at his job, he does even better to protect _you_.” His explanation was legitimate, he wasn’t fussing for straws on this. You knew that Jumin worked tirelessly to quash the media from spreading damaging rumors about the company, and of you.

He did it so well that it was rare that anything managed to slither through the cracks.

“Jumin is most definitely my son. A stubborn man to the core,” the Chairman found himself tilting his head against the back of his chair to stair at the glass ceiling to the blue sky. “It’s my reason to believe that all of this work to protect you is beginning to take a toll on him. And because of it, it’s beginning to sully his rep–”

“Ridiculous,” you interjected, slamming your hand atop of the thin envelop to slide it forcibly across the table towards him. “Jumin’s reputation is perfectly fine. His popularity and influence is fine. He’s fine. We’re fine.”

The Chairman remained relaxed, speaking monotonously as though he were bored of you, “Is that what you like to tell yourself?”

“What are you trying to–”

“Jumin is buried to his neck in unnecessary work, all for your protection. His focus has dwindled, his productivity towards the company is instead going to you,” he stated, resuming his posture against the table to splay his fingers across the letter. “If I may speak frankly: you’re a hindrance to the company, to him, to his life.”

“B-But, I’m not. I love him…” you were losing your composure fast. If there was one thing the Chairman knew how to do better than most people, it was get under their skin. After all, he wouldn’t have owned the title he did being a pushover. “Jumin and I fought so hard for… everything…”

There was a deep clinch in your chest, first painful and growing into dull throbs as your father-in-law pushed removed a piece of paper from the envelop and flashed it in your face. It was a check, a check for an extraordinary amount of money.

“I’m not heartless,” was his response to the way your face contorted at the sight of it. “I want you to take this check and your family, live comfortably for the rest of your lives. This would be more than enough to get your future children through any university as well.”

“I don’t want it…” you were fighting back the tears as they burned against your eyes, rimming your lashes. “Please, I love Jumin.”

“I know you do,” he said placidly, rising from his chair to your side of the table. Once there, he placed the check in front of your eyes before walking past you. “That’s why you know you need to divorce him. Do what’s right.”

You listened to the Chairman and his bodyguard’s footfalls against the marble gradually fade until you were left alone in the dining room, eyes trained on the piece of paper keeping you company.

The silence killed you more than his words.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following lunch with your father-in-law, you’re left with the heavy burden if what you truly want is Jumin or the money.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW-ish towards the end. Make sure to let me know if you enjoyed!

The delicate envelop weighed heavily against your fingertips, seeming almost to teeter your balance as it tilted towards the floor when your hands loosened. At the very sight of it, your lonely conversation with the chairman solidified deeper into your mind. You could only wonder to yourself, in the depths of silence of the home you and Jumin shared, if what startled you was your father-in-law’s apparent disapproval or the exceedingly generous sum written on the check.

By the time you had returned home the sun had settled for slumber, beyond even the tallest skyscrapers in the city, entrenching the townhouse in a darkness that you almost found captivating. It took you some time to realize that you had been pacing the rooms, mind elsewhere entirely until a soft warmth began weaving between your legs.

“Elizabeth…” you mustered, leaning low enough to scoop her from below and heaving her against your chest. The pristine feline nestled against your side, feet powerfully kneading as her throat rumbled in delight when you looked at her. “You don’t care about any of this, do you?”

She simply rolled her head against your chest, chirping when you scratched her side before lowering her back to the floor. Too lazy to find her own footing, she merely draped in your arm until the ground was placed beneath one again and trotted behind you as you wandered into the bedroom.

“What do I do?” you asked her, meeting her wide and fathomless stare. “I felt so sure when I was talking to him, but now… now what?”

A part of you withered in disgust at finding difficulty answering your own questions. To anyone else, and even to yourself in your heart, you knew what you wanted. And yet, as you gazed upon the ornate nightstand at the head of the bed, littered with especially vivid photographs within intricate frames, your mind found logic elsewhere.

The old photograph of your family on vacation found its way into your hand. “Do you think my parents would’ve come to my wedding if I had married someone other than Jumin?”

Elizabeth’s grand tail swayed gracefully, those eyes still trained on you and unknowing.

“You just want food. You’re too fat, Jumin needs to put you on a diet.”

Almost as though bad omens had become attached to that name, you heard the door come to an easy close and languid footfalls approaching. Heat rushed through your body, suddenly keenly aware of the envelop you had abandoned on the mattress, eyeing it as though it had burst into flames. You couldn’t attest to being the most graceful and thoughtful thinker under pressure, but you had to say you were rather pleased with yourself when you effortlessly worked the envelop between the mattress and box-spring, hastily resuming your position on the bed after snatching Elizabeth onto your lap.

When Jumin’s weary face poked into the doorway, there was a flash of relief in his eyes. You couldn’t imagine why.

“There you both are. I thought it was strange that neither of you were there at the door to greet me,” he said with a minuscule smile, hand combing his hair away from his head as he massaged his scalp.  “I was worried for a moment.”

“Not too many places to go here, Jumin,” you offered dryly, managing to match his smile but quickly fixed your gaze to the top of Elizabeth’s head as you stroked her. For some reason, the mattress dipping under his weight and the warmth of his shoulder against your own made your stomach churn.

You didn’t dare venture a look at him, only going as far as to observe his lithe fingers lovingly grazing Elizabeth’s sleek coat glistening much like tinsel against the overhead light. It was tempting to move away from your husband as his weight leaned more and more into you, angular chin coming to rest at your shoulder as his fingers swept the length of your arm.

“You’re unusually quiet tonight, is something wrong?” Jumin pressed, voice low as his breath caressed the shell of your ear. “Ah, I was about three minutes late tonight–perhaps that’s it?”

Even though you and Jumin had married a while ago, you wondered if he would be stuck in the newlywed mindset forever. You lifted your eyes to the ceiling, struggling against a smile as his lips met the side of your jaw softly, trailing higher until they reached the corner of your mouth. You didn’t fight him as his fingertips feathered the side of your face, turning you towards so he could kiss you.

You had predicted it, yet you still seized at the sensation. The greater part of you wanted to indulge in your husband, but the growing void in the pit of your stomach made each kiss more uncomfortable than the last. At that point, Jumin had guided Elizabeth off your lap and to the floor without breaking the lip-lock, easing your back onto the mattress.

“Mm–Jumin, wait, wait,” you tried to reason, biding yourself time and turned your face away from him. “Elizabeth is still in here.”

True to your word, the exemplary feline merely sat on the floor gawking up at you with eyes that you were convinced judged you with an absurd harshness. Jumin sighed against your skin but relented and moved to pick up the white ball of fluff.

“Elizabeth is only a cat.” Jumin said, a tad impatient as he let her down outside the bedroom, closing the door after her. “Although, I suppose I can understand why it’d make you uncomfortable.”

In the time that Jumin had his back to you, you wedged several fingers between the mattress and box-spring, sandwiching the letter as far towards the middle as possible. Perhaps you hoped to hide your guilt along with the check, regaining your composure once Jumin returned to you.

“I had difficulty focusing today,” he admitted, long fingers eagerly yanking at the neat tie at his neck prior to discarding it on the floor as well with his suit jacket. “Every time I would try to lose myself in my work, I would see you in my mind. I thought about calling you a couple times today, and yet…”

“Work is work,” you interjected, unable to force your gaze away from him as he climbed atop of you yet again, fingers making impressive work of the buttons of his crisp shirt. His bare chest was a welcomed sight, prompting you to unfasten the few buttons left yourself while he shrugged it off his shoulders.

You weren’t given any warning to his lips latching to your neck, his weight pinning you to the mattress as he swiftly removed articles of clothing, one after another, from your body to the forgotten heap on the floor.

The kisses he left on you were fire, searing into your flesh like a brand, rousing both your anxiety and your desire to have him with you like that all night. Your fingers threaded into his soft locks, massaging his scalp reassuringly as his lips explored your body, leaving the moist trails to the mercy of the night chill.

Soon enough, your lost yourself to him with the world around you fading into a dark background. His body was flush to your own, hot puffs of breath mingling as you met his every thrust, nails biting into back.

And yet, no matter the times he lured your attention back to him, you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weight of the Chairman’s demands is still heavy on your heart, and Jumin’s wholesome love only makes it worse. Especially when he continues to ask to meet your family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know your thoughts!!

“I would like to meet your family.”

Your fingers curled, tightening against the delicate silk tie around Jumin’s neck. Sparing but a single glance that wavered beneath his own intense, resolute one, you pretended to busy yourself with smoothing out the new creases in the silk. As the room plunged into silence, you couldn’t be certain if it was from your husband waiting expectantly on an answer, or staying quiet in disappointment.

Every now and then Jumin would propose this to you, though less as a request and more as a fact. Of course, you didn’t blame him for his curiosity and his persistence, after all, you knew the entirety of his small family, down to each new girlfriend his father wooed and the names of every bodyguard under hire. To him, you were sure he felt an integral part of you was missing–the life you had before the RFA; the people who had been there during your more fragile years.

And yet, you couldn’t say that you wanted him to meet them. Since the beginning, they had shunned your relationship with Jumin, you dared to think that it was even justified to some capacity. The day you walked the aisle and kissed Jumin before thousands of mirthful, envious, and spiteful gazes and hundreds of flashing lights still left you hollow. Those in attendance were acquaintances of his, few were yours.

“Is it such a bad thing to want to know the people who raised you? They are my family as well now,” Jumin started again, dedicated as ever as his lithe fingers twined with yours, guiding them to fix the tie at his neck. “I keep imagining the holidays; what they would be like with us all together. I almost don’t feel like myself anymore, who knew marriage would make me like this.”

You felt the corners of your lips twitch upward. It was a beautiful daydream; to be gathered around glittering lights and cozy by the fireplace, lively chatter and brilliant smiles. But you knew that was a life that could never be.

“Let’s talk about this some other time, Jumin,” you said easily, practiced. “You’re going to be late if you don’t get going, love.”

“It’s my company, I’m never late,” he reminded, adjusting the knot of his tie a little more before moving to the gold cuffs at his wrists. “But, your attention to such things is always admirable. You never want anyone to be inconvenienced, perhaps that’s what I love about you? No, there are too many things.”

His arms wound your body, reeling you flush against him as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips. And then another, and another, each harder and deeper than the last until your back was flush to the cold wall, sending a chill down your spine. It was when his mouth drifted from yours, leaving you winded and to the mercy of his lips smoothing across your neck as though you were delicate art, that you found the will to wedge your hands between your bodies.

“Jumin, jumin, no–” you rasped, managing to grab the sides of his face and hold him before you once more. Those dark eyes of his were irresistible, their depth and intensity unfathomable to you. “Work. Go to work, and don’t run Jaehee ragged.”

For the second time, he leaned in and kissed you, though just a peck. He braced an arm against the wall, fist aloft your head as he looked down at you. “Always doing things for others, don’t forget I’m here for you. You’re can ask me for whatever it is you want, I’ll give it to you. Don’t forget that your happiness matters, too.”

Always the tease, he left you that morning, leaving those words to linger in your mind well into the rest of your day and as you swirled a spoon through your drink. The intricate design the barista had painstakingly prepared had been lost, just as your mind lurked in its haze. Your eyes were glazed, staring distantly whilst teetering your chin on the pad of your thumb.

Little regard went to your companion as the creases in her face deepened, the words she had been trying to get across belonging to the wind. It wasn’t until she snapped her fingers in your face that you jarred, thrusting your back into the chair and gawking at her.

“S-Sorry…”

“What on earth has gotten into you today? You’ve always been a bit spacey, but today you’re not even here at all.” She said suspiciously, eyeing you cautiously as she took a sip from her coffee. “Please don’t worry me more than you already do.”

“Sorry, mum. Just a lot on my mind, I guess. A-Anyway, what were you telling me?” you asked urgently, hoping that some feigned excitement would veer her attention elsewhere.

True to being a woman of gossip, your mother took the bait and wrung her hands before her with a rather satisfied smile on her lips. “Your brother! My, your brother is a trooper. He picked up a job there at that garden center a couple blocks from his college. He doesn’t get paid very well, but, he’s such a good boy, he gives us most of the money he makes.”

“I’m surprised he’s not using that for his game systems,” you mused, sinking lower into your seat and sprawling your legs as you sipped your own drink. “Maybe he’s lying to you about what he sends. Maybe he actually sends you guys, like, his breadcrumbs and uses the rest on himself.”

“Tch, will the rivalry ever end between you two?”

“Never.” You answered flatly, slurping your drink for added emphasis. “Anyway. How are you and dad managing?”

Your mother’s demeanor visibly changed at the question. It was one that you attempted to avoid asking as often as possible, but even you worried about your parents, no matter how awry the relationship had gone. It was especially disconcerting knowing your brother was attending his university, and also pulling all those hours of work, only to shovel it all to your parents.

“Do you mean in general, or financially?” she offered you a brittle smile to which you did not return. “As well as we can do in our situation, honey. I’ll be honest with you here, most of the money your brother sends us I hide. We wouldn’t be able to even pay our essentials otherwise.”

Her words made you bristle, your frustrations festering by the second. “Your father… he… he tries to find jobs, but they just never last for him. But, truly, he does try. Oh, but! Did I tell you about that quaint little store I started working at down the road? The one for tourists? You see all–”

“Are you serious?!” you exclaimed, thrusting a palm flat on the table. “You’re working?! Mama,  _really_? You already have issues walking! Is dad– is he really that useless?!”

“Do not speak that way about your father!” she shot back, a pudgy finger jabbed in your direction. “Your father does his best, he’s a good man.”

“No, he’s not!” you countered, sliding to the edge of your seat. “If he were a good man, he wouldn’t be making his son and wife break their backs to deal with his dumb drunk ass and gambling problems! Why can’t he just be respons–”

“Enough! I’m not going to listen to you talk about him like this!”

The table jarred in your mother’s attempt to rise from her seat, only to give a howl of pain as she fell back down into her chair and cringed, cradling her swelled knees in her palms to ebb the pain. Your lips were taut as you stood before her, hands outstretched and waiting to help her up. With a great sigh, the rotund woman slipped her warm hands into yours, slowly standing and leaning against you as she collected her cane and balance.

“Your father thinks about you all the time, you know?” she started, shuffling at your side once she was ready to start walking. “He asks me how you’re doing all the time… and if you’re happy… with Jumin.”

“That doesn’t excuse him, or anything he does,” you rebuffed stubbornly, simply jutting your lips when your mother sighed in defeat. “I’m hearing he’s been trying to get loans from under the table from people now. He’s going to get killed.”

To that, your mother’s grip on your arm and her face hardened. “I’m going to kill your bother is what I’m going to do. Running that mouth of his to anyone.”

“He’s  _my brother_.” You replied.

“Oh, yes, yes, I know. You both came from the same place.” She waved her hand towards your face. “More importantly, how are you and Jumin? We still see Jumin plenty in the public eye, but we don’t see you all that often anymore.”

The feelings you had tried so hard to bury suddenly flooded you again; the guilt and the dull ache in your chest that felt like a vise around your heart. It had been almost a week since your father-in-law had given you that extraordinary check, remaining untouched between the mattresses. Truthfully, you had lost too much sleep over it, and you were no closer to reaching a decision–only begging the question of just how long the chairman would wait before he made another appearance.

You loved Jumin more than words could comprehend, more than actions and words could express, yet the situation with your family reminded you that money held power. It wasn’t a surprise to you that the chairman had sniffed out information on your family to use a leverage, after all, it was still his company first and foremost.

He could truly do anything he pleased, and find out anything he wanted.

But, then again, he didn’t have to try very hard to get the information he needed.

“There you go again, zoning out,” your mother huffed, giving your cheek a light smack to reel you back to reality. “Is this about Jumin? You looked the same back there. What’s going on?”

“Does it really matter?” you replied callously, bowing your head to people you greeted you as you passed. “It’s just newlywed stuff.”

She whacked your shin with her cane, making you sputter and nearly double over in pain. “Don’t be such a little shit, of course it matters! We all watched your wedding when it was broadcast. Swore your father had tears in his eyes, but maybe that was just the light.”

“Yeah, probably,” you groaned in agreement, caressing your knee. “We– I… well, it’s not so much a problem with him as it is me. I wonder if I’m any good for him.”

Those words of weakness didn’t settle well with her, she turned her eyes, eyebrows lifted incredulously. “That wedding of yours was so widely broadcast that it made the royals overseas look like a joke. Now, I haven’t met that husband of yours, but he doesn’t give the impression that he’d just marry someone on a whim.”

“I… er–”

Well, you both kinda _did_.

“Mmm, that does remind me,” she said slowly, obviously picking her words carefully. You knew what the next topic would be, it was a customary to every outing your had with your mother recently. “Chairman Han, how is he? I know that he was… ah, surprised, when you two tied the knot like you did.”

“He’s in good health, and good spirits,” you managed in a frail voice, wincing beneath the woman’s sharp stare. She was far too astute for her own good, but you attributed that to her being a mother. “Still dotes on Jumin constantly, a little better with his dates, though.”

“None of this is really about Jumin, is it?”

You closed your eyes, letting your head loll from side-to-side while you thought of what to say. Your heart felt as though it was ready to burst at this point, lips dangerously close to flapping away. A greater part of yourself wanted to believe that your mother would be there to keep you safe, always burden your troubles and secrets you couldn’t tell anyone else. At that point, your secret felt as an anchor weighing you deeper and deeper into the earth.

Jumin loved you so wholly, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him without being reminded of your indecisiveness. What sort of life partner were you? You were a joke.

“I have no doubts that he’s a good man, a good father–Chairman Han, that is,” your mother started, bringing your arm closer to her bosom as though attempting to embrace it. “Your father doesn’t want to accept that, though. I think he’ll go to his grave believing Mr. Han ruined his life.”

Despite your moderate distaste of your father-in-law at the present, you couldn’t help but point out, “He wasn’t even the one who fired dad. Why won’t he just get help and get over himself?”

Your mother shrugged weakly, tilting her head to rest against your arm. “I don’t know, honey. I know you can’t see it, but your father  _is_  a good man. And he loves you. Please remember that.”

“Yeah…”

“I hope that one day you and your father will make-up, and you’ll be able to bring Jumin around.”

_“Yeah…”_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s nothing you love more than peaceful evenings in Jumin’s arms, but you’re faced with the constant reminder that a decision needs to be made. And you know just the person to confide in about it.

“Lunch with my father today went better than expected.”

A pair of pliers wouldn’t have been enough to lift the frown that weighed your entire face, yet you offered as pleasant a hum of interest that you could muster without your eyes leaving the glowing screen. Likewise, Jumin was engrossed in his newest cross-stitch project and never noticed the disconnect between your response and face. 

He carefully wiggled the needle through the intricate pattern, then once more before pulling the yarn taut to secure it. You couldn’t say you were particularly interested in that hobby of his, it seemed too repetitive, too precise for you to find it as any form of stress relief. And yet, you couldn’t help but admire just how invested he was, how those lithe fingers of his worked like magic to bring flare an elegance to his work.

“We met with several overseas investors who seem interested working with us.” Jumin explained in that monotone of his, gently tugging upward on the string as it was wedged through again. “There’s going to be a party soon, I guess many important figures will be in attendance. They gave father and I an invitation.”

“You hardly sound enthusiastic about it. Don’t trust them?” You posed the question casually enough, tossing your phone to the opposite end of the couch as you retrieved your mug from the glass table in front of you. “I have a feeling you weren’t the one who agreed to it.”

“Hm, observant as always. You’re right, father was the one who sounded off on it,” Jumin replied, offering you minuscule smile as he opened his arm to let you nestle against him. His work was left abandoned on the armrest then, trading his attention to smooth his knuckles along your back and peppered kisses across your face. “Overseas investors, princes from foreign lands, a few heads from sister companies will be there at the party. Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury of telling him that I won’t attend.”

You threaded your fingers together around your mug; the warmth from your beverage was hot against your skin, but being so near to Jumin made your heart swell, and the stress of the day roll past your lips with each contented sigh after you sipped your drink. Moments such as these were entirely too short, even if the topics Jumin brought up were rather weighty.

“That’s too bad, honey. Maybe you should be a rebel and tell him ‘no’, anyway,” you suggested with shrug, the pads of your fingertips drumming impatiently on the delicate ceramic. “Sometimes we have to let people in our lives know when they’ve gone too far and need to stay in their lane.”

Those words were met with a look of surprise from your husband, an inquisitive gleam that prompted you to explain yourself. Instead, you noisily slurped your drink and ignored his pointed stare. Jumin was being fair in attempting to allow you to speak your mind before extracting it from you himself, but you had no intention of supplementing what you just said.

The Chairman hadn’t spoken a word to you since he had given you the envelop. Since then, you had moved that damn check to so many different spots in the townhouse; the mattresses, the dresser, in photo frames, beneath tables–the list went on. If it hadn’t been for Ms. Kim, the cleaning lady, nearly uncovering it during her routine the other day, you probably wouldn’t have been so concerned.

Truthfully, you still weren’t any closer to deciding on what you needed to do, but one thing that you did know is that your fear was quickly festering in bitterness, coursing your veins hot with anger. You couldn’t be sure if you were angrier at yourself for not reaching a solution or at the Chairman steeping his fingers in the shadows.

You didn’t want to give up Jumin, yet you feared that the financial situation for your family was worse than what you mother was willing to admit. That check was enough money for your parents to retire, get a nice villa in Italy, and for your brother to finish his university in complete leisure. 

And you, well you would be set for life. All of that for the simple price of divorcing Jumin, signing a couple of papers and turning your back on him forever.

“I told my father that I would go to the party under the condition that you were with me.” Those words caressed the shell of your shell, chills rattled your spine and made goose flesh speckle your arms. “It’s been a long time since we’ve been seen out together publicly. The news outlets are getting antsy and making preposterous claims now.”

For a second, you felt an overwhelming wave of heat flood to your face and ears, making you shift uneasily against him. Would the Chairman go as far as to spread lies to the media?

“The typical things like… how we already divorced, and it was all a publicity stunt,” he explained, smiling in delight when he saw your shoulders roll forward in relief. “I want to show you off. I know that you prefer not to be be seen, but this is unavoidable…”

“Ah, yeah, you’ve done a lot…” you tittered, leaning forward to place your mug back onto the coaster before winding his black locks around your fingers like tendrils. “I didn’t think you’d be able to keep it up for this long, thanks. How’s your dad feel about it?”

Jumin hummed thoughtfully, heading lolling to the side to rest against your arm where his lips ghosted across your flesh, making a moist path higher until they pressed more firmly against your shoulder. “He always asks about you, more recently than he used to. I think he’s beginning to warm to you, and that he understands that you’re my partner.”

As Jumin moved closer, his arms reeling your bodies together and his lips roamed higher to your neck, you couldn’t keep your gaze on him any longer. Your eyes traced around the room, eventually landing on Elizabeth on the floor some feet away, a leg hoisted in the air as she aggressively groomed herself.

“He said that he’ll be happy to have you there with me, but seemed surprised for some reason–but another time for that.” 

Your breath hitched when the world spun, luring your attention to Jumin once again as the cushions molded against your spine. At that moment, you were keenly aware of how quickly he unfastened each button to your shirt, hips lips soon capturing yours in a hard kiss that made your thoughts fade into a haze.

Each time you felt that your mind drifted towards the other direction, he always had a way of dragging you back, leaving you more conflicted than before–guiltier and angrier than before. Those long nights with him haunted you; they felt like a fabrication, only something that existed in beautiful dreams. 

You looked on, eyes unfocused as your knuckles rapped at the white door with chipping paint. For a moment, nothing happened and no one stirred inside, prompting you thrust your fist against the door instead. This time, you heard a cacophony of noises; strings of curses, heavy thuds, and things toppling over followed by thundering footfalls that ceased the moment the door swung open.

“Yo.” You raised a hand, nonchalantly greeting the man sprawled defensively in the doorway. There was a brief silence where you merely stared at him blankly, whereas he scrunched his face, leaning closer the more bewildered he became before realization struck him and he lunged out, gripping your arms to drag you inside of the dorm after throwing scoping his surroundings frantically.

“What the hell are you doing here?! Oh, man, it would’ve been so bad if someone saw you!” He exclaimed, hastily slamming the door and locking it. “How did you even get here? Like, you’re married to a billionaire but you’re still walking around by yourself?”

You ignored your brother’s incredulous look as you meandered the room, grabbing random trinkets that caught your attention. “If you want to blend in with people, do it in plain sight. As long as I cover my head or something, most people don’t recognize me.”

Sputtering in disbelief, your brother wrenched away each thing you picked up, cradling it as though you had threatened to throw them on the floor. And, usually, that’s exactly what you would have done. 

“Man, if my friends saw you come in here, they’d never leave me alone. They’re always teasing me now,” he explained, abandoning his pursuit of you to flop onto his modest mattress and cross his legs. “Saying stuff like how they’re so surprised I’m still in school and haven’t dropped out to work for your husband, or whatever. Stupid shit.”

“Hey, nice to see you, too! Wow! Haven’t seen you since before the wedding, I’m doing great! Thanks!” You chimed, the enthusiasm forced through broad smile and clenched jaws. “It’s okay, I totally forgive you for not ever texting me or, y’know,  _anything_.”

You brother jutted his lips, blowing a strand of hair away from his face in exasperation. He hauled his body over to let you sit next to him. “Okay, okay, I get it. Sorry. I just… I dunno. I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, whatever, I don’t buy it,” you rebuffed, rolling your eyes. “But, whatever. At least you don’t outright ignore me like dad does.”

“You guys  _still_ haven’t made up yet? It’s been, like, almost a year.” 

“Well, he’s being a dick about it. I’m not going to be the one to say anything to him. I don’t have anything to apologize for,” you rejoined, shrugging a shoulder at him as though defiantly waving off the responsibility. “It’s his fault he’s a mess.”

You were grateful that your brother had decided to take the neutral ground with the whole bitter affair between you and your father. It also occurred to you that he was at the age where he didn’t care for many things outside of his social circle and hobbies at this point; you were like that too, once upon a time. Regardless, your remark evoked a frown from him–eyes flashing in disappointment as he trailed a hand through his hair, the same color as yours.

“Well, I mean, yeah… but I’m sure he misses you and stuff,” he said, pressing his fingers into his legs to crack his knuckles. “I dunno, though. I only really talk to mom now. Dad never answers his phone, and when he does–”

“He’s drunk. I know,” you interjected with sigh, flinging your back onto the mattress. “Mom told me. Saw her, like, two weeks ago. But, you know mom, she’s not going to tell me anything. How bad is their situation?”

Your brother rolled his jaw, shoulders slumping forward as though ever burden in his life had come crashing down all at once. He looked tired. “I, er, I guess they’re not doing too good. Mum told you dad’s tried to get jobs, right? Well, he’s actually had some but keeps getting fired. His gambling is getting out of hand.”

“That’s what I told mom! She won’t listen!” you snapped, thrusting your arms into the air. “She said that he couldn’t get hired. That she’s stashing money you earn, and now she has to work, too.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, running a crooked finger across the stubble on his chin. “Sounds about right. But, eh…”

“What else do you know?” you pressed.

Beneath your piercing stare, he wriggled uneasily, muscles tensing as he attempted to fix his attention elsewhere. “Look, mom didn’t want me talking to you about it. But, uh… I-I think if there’s anyone who can do anything about it, it’s you. Because, y’know…”

“Because I’m married to Jumin.” You said knowingly, earning a nod in return. 

You couldn’t lie, it grated on your nerves that even your brother was reluctant to share any information with you. While you expected your mother and father to keep their lips sealed, it made your chest give a dull ache knowing that you had even drifted so far apart from your sibling.

Still, a semblance of that bond remained as he released a dispirited sigh, peeking across his shoulder at you with look that aged him by a decade. “I think they’re close to losing the house. Mom has been hiding money, but it’s not going to be enough. I think dad’s trying, but… he’s… I dunno. He needs help. They need help.”

He said this to you so meekly, so quietly as though fearful his words would carry through the air back to your parents. Once he said that he was off the bed, arms flexed behind his head, legs carrying in circles around the room. It was only then that you really got a look at your brother. His eyes were heavy and rimmed red, the dark circles were especially prominent to you.

You felt nauseous and couldn’t swallow, it was like something had lodged in your throat and you couldn’t get it down. All this time you had spent your life in the lap of luxury, quite literally, rarely giving much question to your family and their struggles. You wondered if it was because they wanted to spare you their burdens, or if their pride kept them at bay.

“I…” you choked, lapping at your parched lips as your fingers glided across something smooth and familiar. “I… need your help.”

This piqued his interest, torso twisting towards you as he eyed you. “Whaddya mean?”

“I couldn’t talk to mom about this. She likes to talk, she would’ve told dad. But, I trust you. You have to promise you won’t tell  _anyone_  about this.” you started, brow furrowing as you stared at him unblinkingly. “You have to promise this stays between us.”

His arms slowly unfolded and came to tighten at his chest, not bothering to disguise his concern. “You’re freaking me out. What’s going on?”

“ _Promise me_.”

“Okay! Okay! I promise! I swear, I won’t say anything, tell me already!”

His affirmation was all you needed to thrust the envelop out to him, arm rigid and aloft while your eyes drifted towards the floor, unable to bear the shame of what you were doing. You had hoped to handle this situation seamlessly and quietly, but it was beyond you at this point, especially after hearing all of this.

People always declared that love won in the end each time, that someone would be a fool to choose money over their partner. But, it wasn’t so cut-and-dry. Was your love for Jumin worth more than the love for your family and their lives?

You didn’t know. It wasn’t a simple answer.

It took a moment for your brother to gather himself enough to take the envelop from you and skim the contents. The thin envelop slipped free from his fingertips, gracefully fluttering across the room to the floor while his eyes remained locked on the check, expression contorting into one of disbelief.

“H-How many numbers is this? This… oh my god, is this real?”

You barely managed a nod. “Yeah.”

“Oh my god?” He said, seeming confused by his own words as he dug the pad of his thumb into the side of his head. “ _Oh my god_.”

You grazed your teeth across your lower lip, observing him closely.

“Holy shit, oh my god…” he whispered hoarsely, throwing his head up to look at you.”Did Jumin give this you? Did something– what the hell happened?”

This was more than you could bear, you jolted up from the bed and pressed your palms against your face, tugging at your skin while your brother’s frantic gaze followed you. Your eyes stung and your chin wrinkled in your effort to hold back your tears. 

“I hoped this would’ve helped, telling someone. I just feel worse and stupid,” you struggled out through the sobs. “It wasn’t Jumin…”

You weren’t sure how long you had spent explaining everything to your brother, time became irrelevant at that point. Luckily enough, your brother merely waited patiently through your strangled cries and incoherent blubbering until he was able to piece together what you were trying to tell him. Even then, the check never left his hand and he seemed to be at just as much a loss as you.

And yet, his next words were strangely calm, “I think you should take the money.”

“ _What_?!” you hissed, giving him a pointed stare that made him wither. 

“L-Look. I’m thinking of this objectively, or trying to anyway. I know you love Jumin, but, look, the Chairman isn’t being a savage here. This money… it… it could save this family. Mom and dad won’t need to worry, dad could go to rehab, I could finish college–”

You narrowed your eyes, jaw falling slack. At that point, every ounce of frustration you had kept buried in your head was frothing over. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “What about me?! What do I get out it?” 

“Don’t yell a–”

The check was snagged from his hand as you continued, “So, you’re saying that you guys are worth more than my marriage to Jumin?! I love Jumin. You guys never supported us!”

“Don’t put words in my mouth!” he shot back, hot on your heels as you stomped your way to the door. “What the fuck is the point of even telling me about this if you don’t care about my opinion?!”

You countered, “I needed someone to care! Be-Because I thought I could talk to you!” 

“I do care!” he said, narrowly avoiding the battered door being swung into his face as you walked out briskly. Barefoot and without a jacket, he stayed nipping at your heels, ignoring the curious spectators attempting to get closer. “You’re the one who can’t get over the issues with dad! It’s not mine or mum’s fault, stop acting like a stupid brat!”

“Whatever. I’m done talking to you. Go home!” 

He bristled more. “I am home! Get lost!”

“ _Fine_. Talk to me when you get a life.” You snarled.

“ _Fine_ ,” he spat back. “Don’t talk to me until you stop being a shit!”

You wished you had a door to slam in his face.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was an unusual breakfast with Jumin, and you couldn’t stave your frustrations when he doted on about his father. Meanwhile, your mother proposes to meet for dinner and it doesn’t go as expected.

It took you most of breakfast to decipher a text from your mother. The cluster of misspelled words and questionably dotted emojis had lured your attention away from Jumin, reducing the conversation to you giving guttural hums while he spoke at length about the upcoming party. It was only when the silverware clanked and echoed in your ears, and the intensity of Jumin’s gaze gouged deeply enough into your head that you would respond–often asking him to reiterate.

“You’ve been acting strangely this morning,” he started, fingertips tracing the rim of his cup before lifting it to his lips, eyes fixated in such a way that it seemed like he had more to say. “Is something wrong?”

“Mum is getting used to technology. She hasn’t grasped how to use touch-screen just yet.” You explained neutrally, voice trailing as you skimmed the text again. “It would be cute if it wasn’t so horrible.”

“Ah, father is the same way.” He said, lips tilting up as though recalling a vague memory. The mention of the Chairman made you the chair creak as you shifted, eyes flitting towards his briefly before back to your phone. “I remember the day he first sent me a text. It took me at least five minutes to figure out he was greeting me. Recently, he has taken to expressing himself through pictures. It’s endearing, really.”

The way Jumin spoke so fondly of his father made you bristle, your veins run hot, and your jaw set tautly as you quashed the festering frustrations as best you could. You couldn’t fault Jumin for loving his father; he was the only parent he had, for better or for worse. There was a nagging thought that floating in the forefront of your mind; would that love change if he knew everything?

“You always speak so highly of him, Jumin.” You ventured daringly, bitterly even as you opened the messenger app to see if anyone else was online yet. “Sometimes it makes me miss what me and my dad had.”

Those words seemed to startle him, his jaws slowing as he pocketed food in his cheek with the fork still aloft. You trained your gaze back to the screen, ignoring the way he seemed to probe your face for a better explanation. Your conversations often fizzled in this way, the silence was suffocating. 

Jumin swallowed his food, placing the silverware and his plate aside as he wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. “Despite his flaws and his habits, my father is a good man. I only wish that he and my phenomenal spouse were closer.”

“I wish that too, Jumin,” you replied with some reluctance. “But, at least I’ll see him at that party that’s coming up, right?”

“Indeed.” He said, chin resting atop of threaded fingers. “That reminds me, we do need to find a day this week to go to the tailor. I think your outfit for the occasion could use a couple more alterations.”

“What?” you sputtered. “I’ve already been there three times, Jumin. I think it fits as best as it’s going to.”

At that, his lips pulled into a soft smile and he rose from his chair. You nearly shriveled in your seat as he took long, confident strides to your side of the table. His hands landed heavily on your shoulders as he stood behind you, leaning close with his warm breath fanning across the shell of your ear.

“I want everyone to know just how amazing you are. I’m going to make sure you stand apart from everyone else.” Those lips of his traced the contour of your ear, drifting farther to your nape. Chills raced down your spine and speckled your flesh, his fingers teasing as he pulled the wide scoop of your shirt lower. “It’s a shame we don’t have more time this morning.”

In an act of rebellion, you flung your head back against his chest, hands furling around the purple tie at his neck to reel him closer and into a fervent kiss. His throat rumbled, giving something of a semblance of growl as you hooked your hands at the back of his neck to deepen the lip-lock.

And, just as quickly as you kissed him, you pulled away. As you stood from your chair, you gave his cheek a gentle pat with the back of your hand. “Go to work.”

Despite his lips being stretched thin, eyes glistening as they followed you and shamelessly looked you over, he obliged and took his satchel. At the door, his fingers lingered over the cool brass as though hesitate and swallowing things he wanted to say. 

Your smile fell the moment the door clicked shut behind him. Left alone to the invisible entities in the townhouse, you pulled the smartphone from you pocket and hunted up your mother’s text message again–the one you had procrastinated on responding to.

_“Hey, honey! Making dinner tonight! You should come over and we can catch up. Bring Jumin with you!”_

As indecipherable as it had been, you assumed that was the gist of what she had tried to say. Your thumbs spun circles in the air, mulling the response to give her. To say that you were suspicious would be an understatement; it wasn’t often that your family reached out to you anymore, let alone to invite you to dinner.

You were certain your brother decided to whine to your parents about the fight, though concern prickled at your mind over the check more than anything else. Perhaps it was from paranoia and curiosity rather than the love of your mother that you accepted her offer.

When you arrived that evening, you couldn’t peg down a specific emotion. It had been so long since you were last before that front door with chipping wood. In your desperation to remove yourself from those memories, you had almost forgotten your way there and overlooked the humble home more times than you cared to admit.

Nestling the fresh bouquet closer to your chest, you took a deep breath through the nostrils and braved the chime of the doorbell. Heavy footfalls came from the depths of the house and muffled voices and the clack of a cane against wood. 

You offered your mother a brittle smile when the door opened. “Sorry, I hope I’m not late. I had to get a cab and make a couple of detours.”

“Not at all! Not at all!” came her shrill, far too excitable response. The grin on her wrinkled face seemed to falter as she peered around you curiously, shoulders slumping in disappointment. “I thought that Jumin would be with you. Such a shame.”

Without missing a beat, you swept the bouquet of fresh tulips and daffodils beneath her nose. “I know, I know. I told him about it, but you know how it is. He’s really busy, but went out of the way to get these. Nice of him, right?”

She gave a dispirited sigh and a knowing look, limping aside to let you in. Even once the door closed behind you and the crisp night air no longer nipped at your back, you remained rooted to the doormat and close to the threshold, nestling deeper into your scarf. “Thanks for inviting me over.”

“It’ll be even nicer when you ease up. Take off your scarf and coat, dinner is going to get cold. We’ve waited all this time.” Your mother snipped, giving your thigh a firm whack before walking past you towards the kitchen. “Hurry it up.”

Your heart felt as though it had plummeted into your stomach, dread looming over you like a thick veil the deeper you shuffled into the house. Once you passed the threshold to the kitchen, eyes fixed on the sight of your mother, brother, and father gathered around the table, you thought you could vomit.

“About time. It took you forever,” your brother chided, eagerly cramming a bread roll into his mouth, only to wither beneath you mother’s stare. “W-what?”

It wasn’t your brother and mother’s trivialities that you cared about in that moment, however. Your father sat at the end of the table, shoulders forward as he leaned on his arms and swirled a glass of gold liquid. His hair was grayer than you remembered, disheveled and unkempt like the shadow on his chin and neck. The lines in his face were intense, his brow seemingly creased in a perpetual scowl that hooded his eyes at the slightest.

“It’s been a while,” he was the first to speak, voice gravelly and indifferent. “I wondered if you were actually going to come. Good to see you.”

You wondered about that, yet still gave a head tilt and offered a pleasant smile that twitched. “It’s been a long time, dad. Mom didn’t say anything about this being a  _family_  dinner.”

With your pointed stare searing into her head, she quickly swept her eyes down at the table and began to fuss with the placement of the silverware. Your brother had fully dismissed the threats, instead peering curiously between you and your father as he crammed bread into his cheeks.

“You wouldn’t have come otherwise,” came your father’s response before he took a sip from his drink. He gestured with his head to the chair next to him. “Now, sit down so we can eat. Mom says you had trouble getting here, so we waited.”

Words were eluding you at this point, you couldn’t conjure up anything to say; no clever comebacks, no thoughtful responses. Biting back your bitterness at being lured into this situation, you placed your scarf and coat on the back of your chair, attempting to slide into it as softly and quietly as you could.

“Well then!” your mother clapped noisily, hoping to stir some excitement. “Dig in everyone! I cooked all day long just so we could enjoy a nice meal together.”

Your father wordlessly sawed through his pork and ate, whereas your mother indulged everyone in stories of the European tourists she had seen earlier while dusting shelves. Furtive glances passed between you and your brother, the knowledge of the check burdened you both now.

The ice clanked in your father’s glass as he poured more liquor. 


End file.
